Do not you underrate The Corsair in not admiring the description it gives of strong and tender feelings? Except in Paradise Lost and Gertrude of Wyoming, I know not where conjugal affection is more beautifully described than in the character of the Corsair; and his sufferings in the dungeon are a most spirited Salvator Rosa sketch.
Pray have you ever read Nugæ Antiquæ, some preserved, others written, by Sir John Harrington, a godson and favourite of Queen Elizabeth’s? Much amusement may be culled from the second and third volumes. With your views and intentions you should read original papers, as well relative to the private characters as the remarkable actions of those who make a prominent appearance in history. The details respecting Queen Elizabeth are particularly amusing; and Harrington’s wit and humour throw considerable agrément on every subject. When you meet Mrs. More’s Hints for the Education of a Princess, read the Historical Reflections. Those respecting princes who have obtained the title of Great, are admirable. Voltaire throws so much glare on the character of Louis the Fourteenth, that it refreshes one’s sight to look at him through the spectacles of sober morality.
Jekyll is amusing as ever in point of wit and humour, though not of imagination. He has turned his mind so much to playing on words that he attends little to thoughts—a common error in professed wits, and one which accounts for their giving less pleasure in society than those who only hear their bon mots quoted are led to expect. We read in the papers of a brewer drowned in his own beer. ‘Yes,’ says Jekyll, ‘Unwept he floats upon his watery beer.’ Conversation at Paulton’s hardly consists in reciprocal communication. Jekyll talks; others applaud, excite, and listen.
TO THE SAME.
Bursledon Lodge, Oct. 14, 1814.
I send Lara. Here are all Lord Byron’s accustomed powers of language and description, his energetic seizure of our attention, his forceful manner of stamping images, so that we cannot erase them if we would, of identifying them with our thoughts, so that they pursue when we attempt to fly them; his verses have fangs. Here is also his accustomed celebration of the unnatural and unfrequent union between genius and crime. That it is an union not unfrequent, knaves endeavour to teach, and fools willingly believe. But experience denies the fact, and it suits not the higher walk of poetry, which, without giving direct lessons, should always elevate, soothe, or mend the heart.
... The sooner you tell us the day we may hope for you, the more on every account you will oblige your best friend, and perhaps the only one who considers you solely in all the opinions she gives. Vanity, prejudice, envy, self-interest, enter into almost all advice except from a parent. Therefore, consider what has been said as coming from a second self, but one who views your situation from the eminence of years and experience.